The portrait of John's father, dated a generation back, is just the man
and little else, phantomly the man. His brown coat struggles out of the
obscurity of the background, but it is chiefly background clothing him.
His features are distinguishable and delicate: you would suppose
him appearing to you under the beams of a common candle, or cottage
coalfire--ferruginously opaque. The object of the artist (apart from
the triumph of tone on the canvas) is to introduce him as an elegant and
faded gentleman, rather retiring into darkness than emerging. He is the
ghost of the painter's impasto. Yet this is Ezra Mattock, who multipled
the inheritance of the hundreds of thousands into millions, and died,
after covering Europe, Asia, and the Americas with iron rails, one of
the few Christians that can hold up their heads beside the banking
Jew as magnates in the lists of gold. The portrait is clearly no
frontispiece of his qualities. He married an accomplished and charitable
lady, and she did not spoil the stock in refining it. His life passed
quietly; his death shook the country: for though it had been known
that he had been one of our potentates, how mightily he was one had not
entered into the calculations of the public until the will of the
late Ezra Mattock, cited in our prints, received comments from various
newspaper articles. A chuckle of collateral satisfaction ran through the
empire. All England and her dependencies felt the state of cousinship
with the fruits of energy; and it was an agreeable sentiment, coming
opportunely, as it did, at the tail of articles that had been discussing
a curious manifestation of late--to-wit, the awakening energy of the
foreigner--a prodigious apparition on our horizon. Others were energetic
too! We were not, the sermon ran, to imagine we were without rivals
in the field. We were possessed of certain positive advantages; we had
coal, iron, and an industrious population, but we were, it was to be
feared, by no means a thrifty race, and there was reason for doubt
whether in the matter of industry we were quite up to the mark of our
forefathers. No deterioration of the stock was apprehended, still the
nation must be accused of a lack of vigilance. We must look round us,
and accept the facts as they stood. So accustomed had we become to the
predominance of our position that it was difficult at first to realise a
position of rivalry that threatened our manufacturing interests in their
hitherto undisputed lead in the world's markets. The tale of our exports
for the last five years conveys at once its moral and its warning.
Statistics were then cited.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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